


Bullet Castle

by satanic_panic



Category: Marvel
Genre: Animal Abuse (mentioned), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22303048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satanic_panic/pseuds/satanic_panic
Summary: Frank finds a dog whilst out one night.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Reader
Kudos: 27





	Bullet Castle

THE last gunshot rang out, loud and flashing as blood splattered over the walls and a thud echoed through the warehouse; thick and sluggish, the blood began to drip down to the floor as Frank trudged through the building, ensuring that there were no more criminals scuttling around. He stepped on lifeless limbs that cracked beneath his boots and grumbled and felt his nose twitch and itch a little at the stench that always came with bodies, a stench he had been subjected to enough times to be used to although still disgusted by; nearly done with his work, Frank checked the back office, holding his gun up, cocked and ready, finger on the trigger as he used his free hand to flick the light on. 

What he saw made him holster his gun and frown. 

Kept in a tight and rusty cage, whining with its tail between its legs, stood a grey and white pit bull with sad grey eyes; the watch patches on its body were confined to its paws and chest, and on its nose were spots of pink, as well as on its upper lip. Amongst the light grey fur were hideous scars and prominent bones, leading Frank to believe that the dog had been starved and beaten, possibly forced to fight for its life. It cowered and tried to back away in the small cage when Frank came close, crouching down at the bars and sighing. 

"Goddamn bastards, what'd they do to you?" He grumbled, shushing the dog and slowly unlocking the cage, letting the dog hesitantly step out. He allowed it to sniff his hands before he reached forward, gently running his hand through the thin, balding fur on its body; he clenched his jaw tightly when his calloused fingers felt the scars, shaking his head. Frank knew better than to take a dog in, he couldn't look after it properly and give it everything he needed, but he knew what they did to dogs like that one - the second it was brought in, it left in a black bin liner. He felt so sorry and empathetic for the poor, abused, animal, and knew he had to do the right thing. "Fuck it… I'm taking you home with me, okay?" 

The dog seemed to understand as it bowed its head and followed him out of the building, but when Frank opened his car door and signalled for the dog to jump in, it looked around, unsure, before gingerly sniffing the leather seat; with a bit of encouragement from Frank, though, the dog eventually climbed in, and allowed him to start driving. 

It had clearly been far too long since the dog had been outside of that tiny cage, as it curled up on the seat and whined softly, seemingly scared to make any wrong move in the slightest; it stayed there, so still and so quietly crying, until Frank got to the safe house out of town, and when he let it out of the car, it followed him inside, still hesitant. 

"Frankie? That you?" A voice called from one of the rooms when Frank lead the dog inside, causing it to cower and tuck its tail between its legs. 

Crouching down, Frank shook his head, and gently pat the dog. "Hey, it's okay. It's just (y/n)... good person, understand?" 

The dog whined, refusing to move, as you walked over, kneeling next to Frank and letting the dog sniff your hand. "Who's this little guy?" 

"Found him while I was out," Frank replied. "Bastards treated him like shit - ain't sure if he was forced to fight or not." 

You frowned, slowly moving forward to scratch the dog behind the ear. "Please tell me we're keeping him." 

Frank shrugged. "You sure we can look after a dog, (y/n)?" 

You nodded, smiling a little when the dog seemed to brighten up just a little bit. "Yeah! I mean, between you and me, there's always someone here. He's never gonna get lonely." 

He grumbled again, something that seemed like a hint of a smile on his lips. "Okay, fine… we keep him. I'll go out and get some dog food, you-" 

"I'll go and get the dog food," you said. "You're still a wanted man, remember? You walk into Tescos, and there's gonna be pigs on your ass so fast you'll wonder who left the pen open." 

Frank chuckled, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it sweetly before allowing you to go. "You call me if there's any problems, right? You promise me that." 

"I promise." You assured, running a hand through his hair and kissing his forehead before finally leaving, gently closing the door behind you, leaving Frank and the dog alone. 

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up," he said to it, picking it up and carrying it up to the bathroom; he set it down gently while he got a couple of towels and started running the bath for it, careful it wasn't too hot or too cold. When the bath was ready, Frank turned the tap off, and lifted the still frightened dog into the water, letting it get comfortable enough before he started to splash water on its dirty fur; he lathered it up with some shampoo, and made sure the dog was thoroughly cleaned before he drained the water, disgusted at the brown-y red colour it had become, and picked the dog up, putting it on the floor before grabbing a towel and gently patting it dry, ensuring he didn't aggravate the scars and sores and open wounds any further. The dog was still scared as it looked at Frank with big round melancholic eyes and its tail tucked between its legs, but Frank smiled a little, patting its still damp head. “Y’know, you’re gonna need a name… but we’ll wait til (y/n) gets home for that, okay?” 

***

You returned home a couple of hours later, struggling to carry in the large bag of dog food and the twenty-four pack of dog food tins, along with a soft blue leather collar, and a large dog bed for it to curl up in; you allowed Frank to help you put it all away, the food going in one of the empty cupboards, and the dog bed going upstairs next to the radiator in the bedroom, and finally, the collar slipped onto the dog’s neck, making it wag its tail a little sadly. 

“You’re such a handsome boy,” you cooed as you pat the dog’s head with a smile. 

“Needs a name, though,” Frank commented, running his thumb across his bottom lip as he thought. 

You hummed, tilting your head to the side, before shaking your head and looking up at Frank. “What about Bullet?” 

“Bullet?” Frank mused, tapping his chin before nodding and cracking his broken smile. “Bullet… I like it.” 

The dog wagged its tail a little, walking between yours and Frank’s legs, but it was still cautious and hesitant to show affection… until you and Frank praised it, patting its head and calling it a good boy; it seemed it was warming to you both, finally realising that its days of being abused and neglected were very much over, and that you and Frank had welcomed it with open and warm arms like a new addition to the family. And so, it was no surprise that, when you and Frank got into bed later that night, that Bullet decided to jump up, too, slow and hesitant as it dared to curl up at the end of the bed, head on your legs, body on Frank’s legs. 

“This is gonna be good for us,” you whispered to Frank, who grumbled in agreement. 

He shifted a little to get closer to you, to press his lips against yours for a moment or two. “I know. I just… I hope he turns out okay, y’know?” 

You knew what he meant, smiling sadly as you thought about how dirty, bloody, scarred and skinny Bullet was, but was now clean, although still scarred and skinny. “I hope so, too, he’s a good dog… he deserves better than what he had.” 

“Sounds like someone I know,” Frank muttered, the hint of a smile on his lips, causing you to roll your eyes and scoff as you playfully pushed him away. 

“Dick…” 

***

It had taken a long while, nearly an entire year, but eventually, Bullet came around; he gained weight, grew back most of his missing fur, and turned out to be the sweetest, softest, dog in the world. He very much made you and Frank a family, and had even gotten his own tag for his collar - it was in the shape of Frank’s iconic Punisher skull, and read: B U L L E T C A S T L E 

Along with the number of a burner phone that you and Frank had gotten specifically for the dog, in case he was ever lost; Frank’s actual phone, though, was running out of memory, as he couldn’t resist the temptation of taking pictures of you and Bullet all the time - you couldn’t chastise him for it, though, as you had very much the same problem. 

“I told you,” you chuckled, throwing a blue rubber ball down the bottom of the garden as you looked at Frank. 

He furrowed his brows, lips pursing slightly. “What?” 

You smiled, shaking your head. “Bullet. He’s good for us - I mean, you have to admit, we’ve both been a lot happier since we got him.” 

It was true, the two of you had been a lot happier, as instead of lazing around the house on days off, you were out in the garden, or walking the trail; not to mention, you both felt a lot less isolated when the other wasn’t around, as Bullet was good company, and Frank quite often said more about the state of his mind to the dog than he did to you, he told the dog things that he thought would hurt you if he had told you. But it was good for both of you. 

“Maybe you should take the last name Castle,” he commented, running a hand over his head. 

You furrowed your brows, tilting your head a little. “Is this your way of proposing?” 

Frank shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets to prevent the cold from nipping at his bones. “Maybe.” 

You smiled, kissing his cheek sweetly. “I’ll gladly marry you, Frankie… but only if Bullet gets to be the ring-bearer.” 


End file.
